A Total Misunderstanding
by Gohanroxme
Summary: In which Bulma gapes at Vegeta while he's wearing someting totally awful and Goku misunderstands the look, thinking she's checking Vegeta out. So he tries to get him with her. Highschool oneshot.


A Terrible Misunderstanding

Bulma began to peek out of the locker rooms' shower stalls nervously, half expecting that guy, what's-his-name . . . _Vegeta_, to be standing there behind the door, as if he was stalking her, which she was sure he'd been doing for the past two weeks since she'd gawked at him wearing that shirt . . . that ridiculous pink shirt with the bright yellow pants that looked _so_ out of character for him.

While Bulma had snickered to her friends, staring at him, at the hot pink top hugging his actually pretty awesome chest, his weird, spiky haired friend that was in three of his classes had started nudging him and pointing at her.

Vegeta's eyes had met with hers for a split-second before he started flashing her an odd, smug smirk and stalking off.

And then, for quite some time now in the only class- science- that she had with him, she could guarantee that he had purposely started sitting in seats closer to her, claiming that he couldn't see the board all too well, and letting her deliberately catch peeks of his black, skintight boxers.

She had grimaced at him then, telling him to pull his stupid pants up, saying that she thought he was better than that and that there was totally nothing wrong with his eyes . . . those handsome, dark pools of obsidian.

He'd shrugged, slumping lower into his chair, his head in one palm, just . . . gazing at her. The cocky smirk was still spread across his face.

Bulma had no trouble in ignoring him.

But now, disregarding him was a total complication, her always fretting about which corner he was going to jump out from behind next.

So slowly, she turned off the shower's water and reached upward for her towel and clothes. She then proceeded to dry her blue locks and body before dressing back into her outfit for school.

Bulma warily stepped out of the stall, scanning the locker-room thoroughly for any signs of "snoopers."

When she didn't spot any movement or any suspicious items, she grabbed one strap of her bag and slipped out of the locker-room door.

Since the bell hadn't rang yet, many students still roamed the halls, chatting enthusiastically with their buddies, pretending not to notice the occasional nerds who got shoved against the lockers. Bulma had been one to stand up for the poor guys, but it was pointless now, seeing as the nerds didn't seem to stay out of trouble for long.

Bulma glanced up at a nearby clock, estimating that she had about thirteen minutes to talk to her friends, and headed down the "8000" lockers.

And she bumped into wall.

Well, it had felt like a wall- a solid, brick one at that- but when she took a dazed glimpse up at a sharp, bronze face, she back-pedaled instantly, thrusting herself away from the brawny, leather-jacketed _chest_.

"Gah, it's you!" She nearly dropped her bag, her brain feeling as if it were swimming around in her head.

An arrogant smile graced handsome lips that Bulma found herself avoiding looking at. "Bulma."

She frowned at him, annoyed. "Dude Who's Friends With Goku."

He blinked, Bulma noticing a trace of disappointment and irritation crossing his face for a moment. "It's Vegeta."

"Oh, I know."

One of his bushy eyebrows twitched and Bulma only shrugged coolly, peering around him. "Mind getting out of my way, please?"

His trademark smirk had returned, his gravelly, somewhat sexy voice answering her with a, "Yes, actually."

Bulma unconsciously made a face, impatiently huffing stray, cerulean tresses from her eyes, feeling that this was going to take awhile. "_Why_?"

"Because I have to speak with you." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Maybe it was. He _had_ been following her.

"Well, _you're_ going to have to wait in line," she said, glaring defiantly into his onyx orbs. "I have someone _worthwhile_ to talk to." She was cold. She had to be. Because he was good-looking and clearly knew it, thinking he could get to her with whatever charms he assumed he had.

He scowled at her, silent, which she recognized as so atypical of him.

"Cat got your tongue?" Bulma risked a taunt.

He was staring intently at her now, his expression seemingly unimpressed, aggravated, and confused. His eyes flickered over a few yards behind him to a locker where a tall boy with odd, messy hair stood.

Goku. He was flashing Vegeta a double thumbs up, leaning against a door. Bulma stuck her tongue out at her best guy friend. Was he _egging_ this dude on?

"Woman, let me talk to you," he spoke suddenly, his jaw set stubbornly, piercing eyes boring into hers.

His voice was different, sort of pleading in a way, that made her soften a bit, despite what he'd called her. "C'mon Vegeta . . . _later_ . . . ."

"No." He grabbed her forearm lightly. "Now."

Bulma stared at him in surprise, nearly yanking her arm back, but thinking against it. "Alright, jeez . . . but only cuz I need to have a word with you, too." She frowned, putting her free hand on one hip and added, "You stalker, you. Would be astonished if you didn't watch me take baths."

Vegeta attempted to give that haughty grin, running the tips of his fingers on one hand through his dark flame-shaped hair that Bulma always found herself wondering whether he gelled it like that. But she knew Goku's was natural, as she tried to comb from end to end of it once, discovering it really was all sticky-uppy and coarse. And he and Vegeta _did_ come from the same part of town.

"Huh, really? Thought you'd be used to that sort of thing." He shifted his shoulders. "Go ahead and put on your, in feminine terms, 'OMG face' then."

Her cheeks did not listen to her when she willed them to stay its creamy pale. Instead they heated as she glared at him and burned even more while she hissed, _"You are _so_ dirty, Vegeta."_

He held her gaze, countering back evenly as he arched an eyebrow, "Is that why you were gawking at me that day, then? Because I'm so _dirty _while I bet it was _you_ whose head was filled with dirty thoughts?"

Bulma was speechless for a moment. "What are you talking about?"

For the second time that day, it seemed Vegeta was reluctant to speak. He wore a scowl now, glancing back toward Goku and evading her eyes, mumbling, "So Kakarot caught you staring at me sometime some weeks ago and automatically assumed you were um . . . _checking me out_ . . ."

Bulma's body felt numb as she just blinked dumbly at him, slowly understanding the situation what he was saying. He was probably talking about the day he wore that stupid shirt that his beloved "Kakarot" had most likely talked him into wearing, what with his odd sense of fashion or whatever.

" . . . wanted me to ask you out then because he, again, assumed you were _into_ me, or _something_ . . ."

Kami, was _that_ what he was confronting for? To ask her out? She looked at Goku in horror who began to whistle casually, as if deciding he had nothing to do with anything anymore after witnessing the killer expression she was wearing.

" . . . because he apparently he noticed that you and his girlfriend are buddy-buddy and that him and I are _acquaintances_, as are you and his annoying, bald best friend's woman, thus his idea of _triple dating_ . . ."

Bile rose in her throat. He did not just say that. He did _not seriously_ just say that.

". . . says that we'd make a cute couple . . ."

He sounded about as "thrilled" as she felt on the subject.

" . . . and that our child would-"

"Vegeta!" She interrupted, alarmed. "Please be quiet now."

His face was like, totally relieved. And as much as Bulma felt weird with the suggestion of dating Vegeta, she didn't really like the idea of him being displeased at the thought of being with her.

They few silent for a few seconds before she blurted, "It was a total misunderstanding!"

"Misunderstanding," the tan-skinned teen repeated softly. "Knew it had to have been, but Kakarot is just so naïve and thick-headed. Checking me out, my ass. Your eyes were possibly not even on me."

Bulma felt her face grow hot again. "I _was_ staring at you, Vegeta. But not, like, in the way Goku was inferring. Because- because . . . ."

The look Vegeta was giving her was not helping her embarrassment at all.

"I mean . . . you were in a pink shirt, Vegeta!" She finally exclaimed. "_Pink_! Big, bad, Vegeta in a top that color? Can you see where I'm coming from? It was utterly surprising, that's all. You took 'tough guys wear pink' to a whole, new level."

They were both quiet again, glancing around awkwardly until Bulma adjusted her bag better on shoulder and uttered a "_Sooo_ . . . ."

Vegeta nodded, scratching a leather-sleeved arm. "Well, that's that."

"Mmmhmm . . . ." They took one last look at each other just before the bell rang and ineptly shook hands, heading toward their next class.

And while Bulma took her own route, she could indistinctly hear Vegeta mouthing off to poor Goku who was repeating the word "Sorry" numerous times.

_A/N: Terrible ending, but interesting concept, huh? I found the pink shirt thing ironic, considering the fact that Bulma was the one who liked it in the first place. Review please and tell me what you think!_


End file.
